


Honest Greed

by TheHatterTheory



Series: FrostIron Ramblings, Shorts, Etc [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot collections, Sex, i really don't know actually, not connected, randumb, verbosity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHatterTheory/pseuds/TheHatterTheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nails like brittle, broken ice scratched at skin, desperate to pull it open, to peel back flesh and reveal what was lying beneath it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honest Greed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to concepts or characters created and owned by Marvel.
> 
> Sooooo.....I have no idea. Really. Just listening to music and popping out randumbness. BUT. Sex in this one. I'm pretty sure you guys know that, or you wouldn't be reading.

He wanted to break him open, to see the parts inside, to know the why why why, wanted to see the gears spinning and turning, to see what made this defective, broken thing behave so, to see how he garnered adulation like a god born from the womb of a human woman. Nails like brittle, broken ice scratched at skin, desperate to pull it open, to peel back flesh and reveal what was lying beneath it, to find the spirit of the machine that seemed to inhabit a body of blood and bone.

Secrets spilled out, despoiled the air, polluting it with truths that were lost in sibilant hisses, fascination admitted but ignored and drowned by greedy, honest lust. His want outstripped his curiosity, his fascination burned out the disgust because this human was more than mere, more than mortal, encompassed a shattered, twisted reflection of could have beens that tugged at him, unwound him like a child's toy in a warrior's hands.

“Fuck,” Lips rasped against his throat, a beard scratching unpleasantly, reminding him of the furred apes the humans used to be, when he was still young to the world of gods. But this one, unlike other brilliant minds, this one was his to take, offering himself like a lamb on the altar to be gutted and burned. This one prayed to him, called to him and bound himself to him with every cutting, sharp smile and word that tumbled over his lips, like broken glass tumbling down, broken glass mistaken for diamonds. 

“Mine,” He whispered, snarled, growled into the thick, curly hair as his hands gripped flesh, bruised flesh because the flesh was nothing to break when there was something lying beneath the surface. He felt it, wanted to find it, that vivid, shining thing that burned through the skin and made dull brown eyes sharp and fever bright.

“Yes,” The voice rasped and hissed, a confirmation and a plea, begging and humbled and still demanding. The nature of the beasts they both were, he knew. He'd always been the god of lies because they didn't want a god of truths, didn't want to give dominion over the things best left in the dark. He'd always been their god of cover ups and omissions but now he wanted the truth, the one truth hidden from him. As if he'd find it in skin and blood as he fell further in, pulled too warm flesh to his, slid long limbs with sinewy muscle against the bulky, ungraceful body beneath him, savored every unpleasant scrape of hair, the blunted nails leaving trails of dark oil on his too pale skin.

His. Determined to find the truth, pull the skin back, learn and pull the pieces apart, to see what makes the hero fight and create and destroy while disavowing destruction, wants to see the paradox fall to bits in his hands, to spill every precious secret. He knew he'd have to swim through seas of shattered glass to find what he sought, to find the diamonds hidden, the ice chipped bits of truth that are the only important truths left.

“Fuck,” He repeated the declaration as teeth bit down on his shoulder, demand and invitation. Sharp and defined, the blood pooling beneath his skin to bruise was felt and savored even as he was roughly pulling at legs, pushing in to slick heat and trying to breathe because fuck so tight, so tight around him and willing and eager, as no one had been for centuries. “Fuck.” Tight around him, legs wrapping, pulling closer, whimpers begging wordlessly, demanding and arching up, greedy, honest lust.

He wanted to fall into the world opening up beneath him, to fall down and away from the endless abyss, into the starburst bright light, pinprick stabbing needles into his eyes as he thrust and withdrew, mindless and searching, needing the answers to the questions he was forgetting. Something like his name echoed in his ears, pained and pleading, pleased and screaming hoarsely. A prayer, an offering. His. His offering, his sacrifice to take and break apart, to split open even as he drove home, heat burning through him, banishing the ever present chill for a split second where infinity shattered and the abyss was lost in pleasure.

The truth was in the blue light, in the too loud humming that was pulsing through him, each rapid rotation echoing the waves of pleasure swelling and crashing against his consciousness, drawing them out until there was no next or first, until he couldn't remember how to breathe, lungs struggling in his chest as his name echoed over the sound, muffled to his ears.

Clever, clever human, falling apart in his hands. His lamb, stolen from the flock to tear apart. His clever Iron Man, offering every truth but the one he wanted.


End file.
